


I've Seen This Film Before (and I Didn't Like the Ending)

by momentofchaos



Series: Brought Me to You [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst, Fluff, Found Family, I despise grant ward, I'm as upset about no Sousa as you are, Phil Coulson & Melinda May are Skye's Parents, Philinda - Freeform, Prequel, Series, So does May, it's like season 1, married philinda, this is what my brain comes up with
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28794249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momentofchaos/pseuds/momentofchaos
Summary: Prequel to To Live For The Hope of it All and Never Needed Anything More. Work 4 of the series.How Daisy found a home at the Lighthouse. And how the family came to be.Soft One Shots, with a sprinkling of angst.
Relationships: Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Melinda May & Jemma Simmons, Melinda May & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson & Melinda May & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Series: Brought Me to You [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895848
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	1. Take Me Back To The Start (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> So this a new book, to separate it from the more Sousa based chapters of the main fic. Never Needed Anything More will be continuing, because I have undying love for the little universe I made up. But this should fill in Daisy's backstory with her found family before him.
> 
> The first two chapters have already been posted in there, but I should have more soon. They'll probably be shorter, and echo moments from the first few seasons.

In hindsight, driving away from her deadbeat ex without a plan, wasn’t her finest moment. Miles was the reason she had managed to survive this long, teaching her to hack till she was better than he was and introducing her to his sketchy friends. But she’d had enough, he was a nightmare to deal with, a self-intitled prick who assumed she owed him everything. So, she’d bundled up all of her belongings withing reach and tossed them in her van and just started driving. The coastal road provided a nice backdrop as the sun was setting, a nice way to try and calm the racing thoughts that swirled in her mind. It wasn’t uncommon for Daisy to not know where she was heading, her entire life up until two years ago had been a giant question mark. Foster homes and the orphanage had been all she’d know till she was 16 and ran off from a particularly nasty family. And then no one cared.

She spent the first few months looking over her shoulder constantly to see if someone was after her, ready to drag her back to the hellhole of St Agnes’, but no one ever did. She settled for life on the road, hitchhiking and playing stowaway of trains headed anywhere. Then she saved enough money doing odd jobs to buy the van and life got slightly easier. Then along came Miles, and she thought maybe her luck had changed. Their life wasn’t luxurious in anyway, living out of tiny apartments, hacking into the early hours of every morning and adopting monikers as their reputations grew. Daisy didn’t have the same drive as Miles, who was determined to take down the government and the lives of everyone in his path. In fact, she hated that anyone’s life would be destroyed on account of their work, and this led to screaming matches that made the neighbours call the cops on them. It was in the quiet moments when Miles was passed out in a drunken state that she’d look out the window of whatever dingy place they were sleeping in that month, and wonder if there was more. If she was worthy of a better life.

That morning had been the last straw. Miles was hacking into some secure government server, threatening to leak the personal details of agents on high-classified missions and cases. She was having none of it, they stood screaming at each other across their ground floor apartment, and she’d finally had enough. Scraping together what she could, she packed off into her van, not before smashing his laptop and taking his hard disk, intent on destroying any chance he had of ruining anyone’s life, including her own. And so, she had gone.

Throwing the hard disk off of an ocean cliff at one of the viewing points may not have been the most effective way to destroy Miles’ work, but the satisfying crack and visible departure of all the separate parts as it hit the rocks at the bottom was enough. She tried not to think about the negative environmental effects trash could have on the ocean and swore to herself that she’d do something to counter this when she could.

And she kept driving. And driving, until she felt her eyelids begin to droop and the tiredness crept into her brain as the sky turned to black. She didn’t have a clue where she was, no idea of a town name, but she knew she wasn’t far from San Francisco. Her first thought was to push through and head for the city, but then the van started to make a whining sound that even her loud music couldn’t cover up. So, she pulled off the main highway and slowly eased the van into an alley that she assumed was behind a row of shops. Coming to a halt, she put the van in park and tried to make out the name of the shop that was hanging on the wall, but the darkness made it impossible. Resigning herself to whatever would happen the next morning, she shuffled into the back of the van and pulled the ratty curtains across the back window before curing up on the hodgepodge of couch cushions that lay on the floor, regretting putting the sofa bed that had once sat there, in her old apartment. You’d think sleep wouldn’t come easily to a girl alone, sleeping in the back of a van in a strange town, but she’d gotten used to it over the years. Plus, she had nowhere else to go.

* * *

Phil Coulson had been having a great morning. Waking up beside his gorgeous, way-out-of-his-league wife every morning was a blessing, and the weather was sunny but not startlingly hot as they drove to The Lighthouse with the top down. His wife often rolled her eyes when she saw the joy, he got from driving his pride and joy, but he knew it was in jest and he accepted it as a wide smile. On the last part of their drive, the final few junctions before they reached their coffee shop, May turned the radio down.

“I get a bad feeling off of Grant Ward.” She stated, simply and to the point. Coulson sighed a little, thinking of the new barista they’d hired to cover some of the busier shifts in attempt to actually let the pair of them live their so-called ‘retired’ life.

“I know Melinda. I do too, but he had good references from John Garrett and we both know we needed to find someone, we can’t expect Jemma to do it all herself.” He countered, flipping the indicator on.

“Yeah, because Garrett is a fantastic source of truth.” His wife scoffed. “Something is dodgy about him Phil. I don’t trust him.”

“Well Jemma and Fitz seem to like him.”

“Phil, they’re kids. Smart kids but their judgement is probably not the best to rely on.” May shot back.

“Okay, well we’ll keep an eye on him okay. I trust you gut.” Phil replied calmly, placing a hand on her knew when she hummed in agreement. Taking the familiar turn into the alley behind the shop, he slammed the breaks on when he saw an old van in his regular parking spot. Put out, he pulled up behind it and killed the engine. He saw May ready to bang on the window or potentially actually break in and move the van herself, but he put a hand out and stopped her. Peering through the window slightly, he could just make out the fact there was someone lying on the van floor in the back, sleeping curled up under a blanket. It was clear May saw them too as she raised her fist to knock harshly on the window, but he caught it.

“May…” he said, looking at his wife as she glared at him. “We can be nice about this.” She rolled his eyes at him and headed for the back door of the shop, taking her key out to unlock it. She was muttering about him being overly nice, but he chooses to ignore it and smirked instead. Half an hour later he returned to the alley, clutching a takeout cup of tea and a fresh blueberry muffin in a paper bag. Cautiously he tapped on the driver’s side window and waited as he heard a flurry of movement from the inside and young women appeared from the back, her eyes wide. He waved and raised the hand clutching the food and the girl cautiously rolled down the window, but remained silent.

“Hey, you’re in my spot.” He said, motioning to the car he’d parked behind the van, and she briefly looked at it in the wing mirror.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I’ll move.” She stammered, frantically searching for the keys she’d put somewhere the night before.

“No, no. It’s fine, honestly. Mr Walker doesn’t drive into the store anyway, he’ll be fine with me using his spot.” He tried to reassure the girl, who still looked worried, but she’d stopped searching for the keys now. “Anyway, I own this coffee shop with my wife and thought you might appreciate this.” He said and tried to hand her the cup and bag.

“Oh no sir- I can’t accept- I’m fine honestly I’ll just get out of your way.” She said, finally finding the keys and grasping them tightly in her hand.

“okay, that’s fine, but are you sure you don’t want this? It’s fresh, I made it myself just now?” He said calmly, his voice soft and level. “I’d of sent my wife out with it, but she’s more intimidating than I am.” He smiled and the girl returned a small one too.

* * *

Never take food from strangers. The golden rule all children are taught, even orphans. But here she was, reaching for the paper bag and cup from the kind-looking man who had knocked on the window of the van. She wanted to say no, apologise for the inconvenience she had caused and drive away, but the sweet, heavenly smell of freshly baked goods radiating from the bag he held out to her made her stomach growl. A growl that would not be satisfied by the half bag of stale Doritos that she had stashed in the van door.

“I’m Phil Coulson.” The man said, as she peered into the bag.

“Daisy Johnson.” She replied, tearing a bit of the muffin off and popping it into her mouth hungrily, humming slightly as it melted in her mouth. “These are fantastic, you really make these yourself?”

“Yeah, perfected the recipe a few years ago, they’re a customer favourite.” He nodded and smiled at her reaction. Before her look to turned back to worried.

“I- erm- don’t have any money. I’m really sorry, what can I-” Only to find herself cut off.

“Daisy, it’s fine. Honestly. In fact, if you want to come in, I’m just about to whip up some French toast for me and the girls? Happy to make you some too? If you want?”

In the back of her mind, there was a nun’s voice screaming about stranger danger, but something else about this man was telling her that she could trust him. The way he spoke didn’t have an ounce of venom in it and his eye were kind but not pitying. She nodded and slid her shoes on, scraping her hair into a pony tail before jumping out of the van. She looked down at her outfit and attempted to brush it off, in some attempt to look at all presentable, only to find that Phil was already at the back door to the coffee shop, holding the door open behind him, so she could follow him through the kitchen. Past the stainless steel appliance and wooden office door, they came into the main shop and Daisy looked around at the homey décor of the place. The few pictures mounted above the unlit fire place, the couches surrounding a small coffee table. Red brick walls with shelves of books carefully stacked alongside potted plants. A landscape painting of a costal scene, a wave crashing against a quaint lighthouse. Bay windows letting light streak across the shop, over the counter where two women were serving the couple who were stood hand in hand on the other side of the counter. She could feel Phil’s eye on her as she took it all in, and he spoke softly, as if he was trying to not scare her.

“Welcome to the Lighthouse, Daisy.” He said gesturing to the shop, and then the women approached as the front door shut after their customers. “Daisy, this is my wife, Melinda May and our star barista, Jemma Simmons. Guys, this is Daisy.”

“Hi.” Daisy was tempted to try and put on some bravado, a façade to hide her true self, the same voice that was telling to run away as fast as she could. But the kind smile of the younger woman and the kind, if not steeled gaze from Melinda May made her stop.

“Daisy is joining us for breakfast, Jemma do you want to set the table?” Coulson asked, and Jemma immediately moved to grab cutlery and plates from behind the counter.

“Daisy, can you give me a hand?” she asked, motioning to the plates. Daisy was briefly taken back by the sweet English accent, but moved to take the plates and followed Jemma to one of the larger tables with four seats around it. Placing everything down in places, Jemma made kind small talk, telling her about how long she’d worked for the married couple, who had disappeared in the kitchen.

“Don’t let May fool you. She’s got s tough exterior, but she’s absolutely lovely. They both are.” Jemma said nodding her head towards the door that lead to the kitchen.

“Yeah, they seem it.” Daisy briefly lost herself in thought of how she felt like she had a good ability to tell when people were being genuinely nice, and when they were faking it because they had a hidden agenda. She didn’t get that feeling here. Snapping back to the moment, she turned to Jemma, “So when did you move from England?”

When Coulson and May walked back into the shop fifteen minutes later, the two girls were deep in conversation about all sorts of thing, and Phil’s heart leapt a little when Daisy threw her head back laughing at something Jemma said. When he’d seen only a little while ago climbing to the front of her van, there had been a sort of broken look in her eyes, a deep sense of feeling completely lost. So, it was nice to see her feeling at least a little bit better.

“Here we go ladies.” He said, placing a giant plate in the middle of the table before taking a seat, his wife close on his heels with syrup and other toppings that were set on the table. Everyone dug in, and Daisy had gone a little quieter now, tucking into the small portion of food she’d served herself.

“Do you mind if we ask a bit about you Daisy?” May asked, in an even tone, clearly trying not to scare the girl off.

“Sure, what would you like to know?” Daisy nodded, taking a sip of the juice Jemma had handed her.

“Where are you from?”

“Originally? New Jersey, or at least that’s where I grew up. I’ve moved around a lot since then.”

“Are you in contact with your family?”

“Don’t have any.” Daisy shrugged, which made Jemma gasp a little at her bluntness and May shared a look with her husband. Daisy saw them and decided it was probably better to expand. “I was dropped in an orphanage as a baby, my parents had died and they didn’t have any family, or anyone to take me in. So, I ended up at St Agnes’.” She shuddered a little at the thought but continued. “I ran off when I was 16, foster families never really lasted long, and the nun’s couldn’t care less. Been mostly on my own since then.” She nonchalantly took another bite, as the other three just looked at her. “Sorry?” was all she could think to say around her mouthful of food.

“No Daisy, you don’t need to be sorry, we’re just a little surprised. You seem to have been through a lot.” Coulson said calmly.

“Yeah, you don’t need to apologise for that. Ever.” May added emphatically, “So what brings you to the outskirts of San Francisco?” Daisy looked a little embarrassed as if she’d suddenly realised the situation, she was in, eating breakfast with a few strangers.

“Erm, my ex- he was doing some sketchy sh- stuff. I couldn’t stay there, so I just drove. Got a little tired and pulled into an alley to sleep.” She paused, nervous. “Sorry about that.”

“Nah, its fine, he needs to be taken down a peg or two with that car anyway.” May said, trying to reassure the girl with a joke, which worked as she smirked into her French toast.

“He’s not one of those guys, is he? Obsessed with an inanimate object?” Daisy said, a teasing tone. “Does it have a name?” Coulson rolled his eyes at his wife before looking at his French toast.

“Lola. She’s called Lola.” He muttered, the corners of his mouth sneaking up as all of his breakfast companions sniggered slightly. “I tell you, the respect I get around here is incomparable.” Breakfast continued with a side of small talk and jokes, and Daisy felt a little lighter.

Daisy helped clear away the plates, drying the dishes as Phil washed them, the other two returning to the bustle of customers who had turned up for their morning coffee.

“So, what’s the plan?” Coulson asked innocently, his hands submersed in the now murky water grabbing a plate.

“Don’t really have one. Suppose I should start driving again. See how far the van makes it.” Daisy said, stacking the glasses so she could place them to one side.

“Any destinations in mind?”

“Nah, I just go where the wind takes me. Where I can get a job preferably.”

Coulson’s hand stilled for millisecond as he considered what she said, before returning to washing the remaining dishes. Once dried and put away, Daisy stood round awkwardly as Coulson headed for his office.

“I’ve got to get some work done, but you’re welcome to stick around. I’ve got some odd jobs to do in a bit and I could use an extra pair of hands, the girls are gonna be busy today.”

“Sure, I need to pay off that breakfast anyway.”

“Help me out and I’ll give you lunch as well.” She smiled at that. “Go sit in the shop, there’s books and magazines everywhere. I’ll come get you in an hour or so?”

So, she did just that. Scanning the room, she settled on the plush chair near the door, in the bay window furthest from the counter. She didn’t know why, but it felt right as the morning sun shone down on it. A brief scan of the book shelf wasn’t fruitful (why did Coulson have so many spy thrillers? Who or what was a Red Room Assassin?), so she settled down with her phone, briefly flipping through a few social media channels before deciding to change her profiles to be considerably less Miles based. A few messages came through from his accounts, only to be immediately blocked, she was done with that. Sighing to herself, she looked out the window and just watched the world go past. Grannies in groups making their way through the surrounding shops, business men storming past on their way to meetings, children riding their bikes down the pedestrianised street.

* * *

After lunch and helping Coulson change lightbulbs and organise dumpsters in the alley, the shop was shutting up for the night. She helped Jemma stack chairs and wipe down tables, willing to do anything to payback the generosity these people had treated her to today. Jemma left to head to a lab with someone she called Fitz, giving Daisy a brief hug and friendly goodbye as she left the Lighthouse.

It wasn’t long till there was nothing left to do, and Daisy threw the paper towel she was using in the bin, only to find Coulson and May standing watching her.

“I can’t thank you enough for today, it was so nice to just be. Not had that in a while. Normality.” She had a sad little smile on her face as she said it, sensing it was coming to an end sooner than she wished it had.

“That’s the thing Daisy. We wanted to talk to you about something.” Coulson said, leaning on the door frame. “We were wondering if you wanted a job. Here with us. May can train you like she did with Jemma. It’s not a lot of money, but it would help you get yourself back on your feet.”

“Guys, you don’t have to do that, I’ll be ok. I wouldn’t want to put you out like that.” Daisy said sheepishly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her focus solely on the floor.

“Daisy, it’s not an inconvenience to us. We genuinely need someone. At least think about it. You’re welcome to use the parking space out the back for as long as you want.” May said, cautiously putting a hand on Daisy’s arm.

“I appreciate it. Thank you, guys. Really. Can I get back to you on that?” Daisy smiled weakly at the couple in front of her.

“Of course. Now I packed you some dinner up.” Coulson handed her a larger bag, and the three of them crossed back out of the kitchen and into the darkening alley.

“You gonna be alright in the van?”

“Yeah, it’s comfier than it looks honest.”

“Alright, well, don’t forget my offer. There’s a place here if you want it. Front row seat to the craziest coffee shop this side of the bay.” He smiled at her as he approached Lola, before opening the door and stopping.

“I’ll think about it. Thanks for today, Coulson.”

“No problem. Goodnight Daisy.”

“Goodnight Coulson. Night May!” She said to the older woman as she joined her husband in the car, receiving a nod and a wave in response. And she would think about it, in fact that night she barely went to sleep because she was thinking about it.

* * *

Phil was almost disappointed when the van was gone from his space behind the lighthouse the next morning, clearly Daisy hadn’t taken him up on the offer of a job. That was until he heard a shuddering engine pull up behind him and Daisy hopped out of the van with a smile on her face.

“Still offering me that job?”


	2. Take it Back to the Start (Part Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is the potentially worst chapter I've written yet, but I find it so difficult to write Ward, cos every fibre of my being wants to hate him. But it should get better from here on out.
> 
> More fluffy one shots coming soon.

Her first morning rush went well as she tried to keep up with May’s fluid movements and polite conversations with customers. With her small amount of waitress experience she thought it would be easy to keep up, but she couldn’t help but feel as if she was floundering a little. The queue and general bustle of customers seemed to thin out around half ten and Daisy found the time to take a breath in the kitchen, as Jemma came in to start her shift. May passed her a cup of tea silently, before slipping past her and into the office, the low murmurings of her and Coulson talking barely audible over the gentle music playing over the speakers in the shop.

After taking a minute, she returned back to the shop floor and helped Jemma clean up.

“Hey Jemma, why do Coulson and May call each other by their last names? I’ve just realised you do it too.” Daisy asked as they stacked the display case full of pastries.

“They always call each other that, so everyone else just kind of follows. Fitz thinks they were secret agents in another life, so that’s why they do it. In reality, they were lecturers at the college, but Fitz thinks Agent Coulson is better than Professor Coulson.”

Daisy hummed as she pondered the thought. May for sure could be a secret agent, but Coulson? She couldn’t see it. Jemma laughed when she voiced this, and lightly threw her a bag of coffee beans to fill the machines up. Once the tables were cleared and counter ready for the lunch rush (Daisy secretly hoped this would be the last rush of the day), Jemma left her alone in the shop to get something from the stockroom. Bracing herself for actually dealing with a customer on her own for the first time, she almost jumped when the bell above the door rang out and a short guy with bright blue eyes looked at her, almost startling himself upon seeing her.

“Hey is Simmons- I mean Jemma around? She said she was working today.” He asked after an awkward moment of silence.

“Oh, you must be Fitz she keeps mentioning. Yeah, she’s just getting something.” She watched as the Scotsman eyed her up, nervously shifting from foot to foot in the awkward silence between them.

“You work with Jemma then?” Daisy questioned.

“Erm- yeah we were partnered up in the labs at school. Something to do with us being the youngest, the British thing was probably a factor.” He explained, wringing his hands but a soft smile on his face. A smile that only widened when Jemma came into view.

“Oh Fitz, you’re here! I see you’ve met Daisy?” She said, bumping shoulders with her new friend.

“Uh yeah- I came to grab those-”

“-notes on the hypothetical application of dendrotoxin-”

“-on the human anatomy, in order to write the-”

“-engineering paper for our joint-”

“project for Dr Hall’s assignment.”

Daisy watched as they finished each other’s sentences, seemingly not noticing themselves as Jemma fished out a folder from her bag beneath the counter.

“Even though it’s hypothetical, I still think we’re going to fail with the amount of dendrotoxin you’ve built the capsules for.”

“Alright then Simmons, you’ll have to increase the concentration of the dendrotoxin won’t you?”

“But Fitz, you gave me only 10….” It was at this point Daisy lost track of the conversation and stood there watching them argue with each other, their voices crossing over each other. She briefly caught mentions of ‘Hermione’ and ‘inertia’, but she was completely lost.

“Fitzsimmons!” Coulson’s voice cut through the noise and everyone turned to look at him. “You could at least ease Daisy in before you get all _Fitzsimmons_ on her.” Coulson cracked a smile, as they both muttered their apologies to Daisy. “Anyway Fitz, I’ve got a check for you in the office, can I have a word about something as well?”

“Yeah, sure thing boss,” He turned to follow him, not before turning to Jemma, “We’ll continue this later. I’m still right.” He whispered, causing Jemma to roll her eyes as he walked away. She grabbed a cup of tea she’d made early and took a sip before realising Daisy was just kind of staring at her blankly.

“So how long have you and Fitz been dating?” Jemma choked on her tea and coughed almost violently at the question.

“We’re not- I- we’re just- he’s my best friend.” She finally spluttered out, her cheeks flushing pink as Daisy smirked at her across the table.

“Sure, Jemma.” She said as her new friend continued to blush, only to be startled when Fitz returned.

“You okay Simmons?” he asked, concerned at the state she seemed to be in.

“Yeah- erm- Yeah absolutely fine Fitz, thank you. Did Coulson ask you which one to buy?” Daisy watched them dive into a deep conversation about the ins and outs of a milk steamer, like they were the only two people on the planet. It was clear to see they were very familiar with each other, and she took note of how Fitz’s eyes softened when Jemma started ranting about something, she was passionate about. He wasn’t alone, over the next few weeks of knowing them she took note of how they interacted, Jemma being concerned about Fitz when he was stressed or how they exchanged smiles when one brought the other a cup of tea when they needed comfort.

* * *

Daisy’s first week working at the Lighthouse was going great, and the first Friday she was due to work, she found herself stood outside the back door, waiting for Phil to turn up. He joked and laughed with her about getting employee of the month, as she began to start the routine of an opening shift with May, the older woman praising her about how she’d already picked it up. Smiling at the compliment, like a child being praised by their favourite teacher, her head shot up when the bell above the door rang out. A quick glance to the clock on the wall told her they weren’t open yet.

The figure was somewhat silhouetted against the early morning sun that shone through the windows. Wearing a pair of sunglasses and brown leather jacket, the decidedly handsome man huffed when he saw her pop up from behind the counter, taking his glasses off with one hand.

“Great, another untrained barista to bother me at work.” Daisy floundered slightly at the insult, the man making her uneasy as he seemed to narrow his gaze on her.

“Ward. This is Daisy.” May said, seemingly popping up from nowhere beside her newest barista. Daisy didn’t miss the frighteningly intimidating glare May was sending the man in front of her. “Daisy, this is Grant Ward, our part time barista. He’ll be working with you today. He’s going to help you.”

“Sure thing, Melinda.” The younger woman saw as May physically bristled at the use of her first name, before she looked back at Daisy for confirmation, she was okay with this. Daisy nodded as Grant shrugged his jacket off and hung it up on the coat rack.

“Just don’t get in my way.” He grunted as he began pouring a coffee. May shot her a reassuring look before heading back to the office, opening the blinds so she could keep an eye on the situation. _‘Well, this will be fun.’_

It wasn’t difficult to see why they kept Ward around. He may have been a jackass to her, but he was charming to the customers, flashing a winning smile at older ladies while convincing them to try the more expensive items on the menu. He also made a show of making drinks, flipping cups and telling jokes to the customers, as he poured the perfect latte. She mainly tried to stay out of his way, taking orders and payments, sorting the various coins into the old style till. There was something about this man, he wasn’t like the other team members of the Lighthouse.

It wasn’t until Ward left for his break that Daisy allowed herself to relax a little. Jemma and Fitz wandered in as he left, Fitz giving him a slap on the back as they passed him.

“I see you met Ward?” Jemma asked Daisy as she settled against the countertop to chat to them.

“Yeah, he seems… difficult?” Daisy mentioned, cupping her hands around the chai latte she’d made herself.

“He’s an arse.” Fitz added, before putting his hands on his hips. “I’m Grant Ward, and I could grind beans with my forehead and a countertop.” Fitz mocked, causing both girls to collapse with laughter.

It got better. Working with Ward was harder than with May or Jemma, Daisy forced herself to be on the ball all the time, unwilling to show her weakness in front of him. Slowly he became more open with her, friendlier than the cold shoulder he’d originally showed. It seemed like she needed to earn his respect. She was very aware that May tended to always keep an eye when Daisy was working with Ward, as if watching over her. It was weird to see someone looking out for her wellbeing, but she shrugged it off with May having a problem with Ward. Charming when he wanted to be, Daisy found herself trying to impress him with her efforts to improve and went out of her way to try to get him to break his serious façade. The first time he smiled at her, she couldn’t help but tease him about it, to which he rolled his eyes and walked away, shaking his head.

And slowly, Daisy found herself loving life at the Lighthouse. Still living in her van parked in the alley, Daisy found solace in the team she had around her. Jemma and Fitz started inviting her to movie nights, and trips to the beach, while Coulson and May made sure she was fed and happy before they locked up the shop each night. And she couldn’t help that she began to hope, something she hadn’t done since she was a small child. To hope for a home.


	3. A Place to Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pastries in the display case, coffee beans poured in the machine, tea urn filled and switched on. Clean mugs taken out of the dishwasher from last night, and that’s where Daisy’s morning took a turn for the worse.
> 
> or slight angst with a massive helping of early Coulson, May and Daisy being soft
> 
> slight tw for brief mentions of previous abuse and small injury (neither graphic or more than in the show)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so first proper new one shot for this work. Some angsty and soft stuff.
> 
> I'm thinking these are probably going to be a lot shorter than the chapters in the main fic, and they're more than likely just going to be random snippets I think of as time goes on.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! 💛

Home was a strange concept to Daisy. Her past meant she’d long given up on a ‘normal’ life, preferring to drift from place to place of her own accord, rather than allowing herself to settle somewhere and then be forcibly moved away from it a short while later. So, she was trying to not let herself get overly comfortable in the warmth she felt at The Lighthouse.

Coulson and May had been more than welcoming to her and had smiled proudly when Phil had handed over her first pay check. Every weekday night she would return to her van exhausted but happy, a sense of renowned purpose within herself. Jemma had fast become one of Daisy’s favourite people, an insanely smart yet awkwardly innocent scientist come barista, who would listen to whatever Daisy had to say, but was equally as happy to passionately rabbit on about the latest biochemical feats, that went straight over Daisy’s head. Fitz would pop in often to see Jemma, and they’d chat in depth about computers and his latest projects at the college.

And then there was Ward. His exterior was still tough, but he’d softened towards her enough that they made a good barista partnership that was proving popular with the customers. And she managed to make him crack a smile once or twice on their breaks, which she celebrated as a victory.

About six weeks after stumbling across the Lighthouse, on a decidedly rainy Tuesday, Daisy Coulson and May entered the shop to open up before the morning rush. It was a familiar kind of rhythm now. Pastries in the display case, coffee beans poured in the machine, tea urn filled and switched on. Clean mugs taken out of the dishwasher from last night, and that’s where Daisy’s morning took a turn for the worse. It happened in slow motion, a damp patch of floor from the water they’d no doubt tracked in on their shoes sent Daisy flying, the tray of mugs slipping from her grasp as she tried to right herself and clattering to the floor with an almighty crash. Instinctively Daisy reached to catch the falling porcelain, the pain searing through her palm as a broken shard broke the skin.

Hurriedly, ignoring the pain, she stooped to try and clean up the mess, her heart beating at top speed at the pure fear beaten into her as a child of messing up with something similar. Flashes of childhood memories sprung to the forefront of her mind, unsavoury foster homes she’d long tried to forget flooding her vision, as her shaky hands tried to clear up the mess.

As her mind was swirling, Daisy didn’t realise May and Coulson, upon hearing the loud crash, had run to the kitchen to find her crouched on the floor. She didn’t even realise they were there until Coulson had called her name a number of times.

“Daisy!” Her head snapped up, not quite meeting his eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for everything and clear it up. I’m so sorry, I’m-” She rambled, scooping broken bits of crockery into her hand.

“Daisy- Daisy stop!” Phil approached her and reached towards his newest barista before she damaged herself more, only to back off immediately when she flinched away from him. He held his hands up and gave her space, briefly sharing a glance with his wife, as Daisy finally looked up at him with glassy eyes. “Daisy it’s okay.”

“No, I smashed them all. I’m so sorry.” She stammered, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

“I don’t care about the mugs. You’re hurt.” He pointed at her hand that was still clutching the broken pieces of mug, and she finally noticed the blood that was spilling out of her hand. May returned with a first aid kit and squatted besides Daisy.

“Am I alright to clean and wrap this?” May asked softly, Daisy met her eyes for a brief moment before offering a small nod as she sat on the floor of the kitchen. Phil lowered himself to the floor too, as May carefully emptied Daisy’s hand of the broken mug and began to clean the wound.

“We’d never be mad at you for an accident Daisy. I want you to understand that.”

“I’m so sorry Coulson, I just slipped and couldn’t catch myself.” Daisy said, wincing slightly as May used a cotton ball and alcohol on her palm.

“Well then it’s my fault for not keeping the floor dry. This isn’t on you, I’d rather you were safe than the mugs. Honestly, you’re not the first person to smash something in here.” May made a sound that almost sounded like a scoff.

“Phil smashed the front window the first week we opened, by pushing a table through it.” She stated as she pressed gauze onto Daisy’s hand and began wrapping a bandage. Looking to the man in question, who had his face in his hands and groaned.

“Really Mel?” His wife raised an eyebrow at him and smirked slightly when Daisy laughed slightly at the interaction. “What I was trying to say is, we’re not about going to scream and shout over a few smashed mugs. We care more about you than them.”

The sentiment of the statement hit Daisy almost like a shot to the heart. She was sure the man had meant it in a flippant way, but there was a warmth to both of these people, who seemed to care about her for no apparent reason, despite knowing her about a month and a half.

“Thank you.” She said quietly, as May finished up wrapping her hand, the older woman’s hand lingering on her arm and giving it a brief squeeze, before standing to tidy away the first aid kit. She took the hand Coulson offered her to help her up from the floor.

“Now what do you say we clear this up and I’ll make my famous grilled cheese?” He said and passed her a broom.

“Sounds like a plan AC.” Daisy smiled back at him.

“AC?”

“Oh yeah, Fitz thinks you and May used to be secret agents so… AC. Agent Coulson.” Daisy ducked her head as she realised the nickname had slipped out.

“Agent Coulson, I like it.” Phil said, puffing his chest out proudly.

“Oh please, you’d die in the first five minutes if you were a secret agent.” May’s voice called from the office.

“Not if you had my back May!” He cried back, winking at Daisy slightly who smiled at the teasing between the two of them.

“To be fair, I could imagine May being a kickass agent.” Daisy noted, in a lowered voice.

“The bad guys wouldn’t know what hit them.” Coulson agreed, sharing the smile with Daisy.

Maybe Daisy hadn’t allowed herself to settle before, but something about the ease and the warmth of the people in the Lighthouse was drawing her closer and closer to feeling like this was the place she was meant to be in. A place to belong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comment, kudos and prompts always welcomed and appreciated! 💛
> 
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**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Comment, Kudos and suggestions always welcome 💛
> 
> Tumblr - momentofch-aos


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